Satellite
by notisaidthefox
Summary: "I managed to reshape what I didn't like and you managed to uncover what I thought was gone." Love was never an option. What happens when her strength becomes her weakness? Follow as my Shep hunts Saren & onward. Eventual F!Shep/Garrus.
1. Cat and Mouse

**Author's Note: **This story is purely self-satisfying in nature. I'm writing this for my own entertainment. My Shep has specific physical features and a personality that I've carefully molded just for this story. So, if you're not into that, I wouldn't bother reading this. You have been warned. More info on her will be posted later.

**Chapter Music for Listening: A Perfect Circle: Passive**

* * *

><p>It was just like back on Earth, when she had had to live life on the streets. Back then, life was simpler. It was dog-eat-dog; you either fought or died. It wasn't easy scrapping for a meal each day, but Shepard had done what had to be done. Enlisting in the military had seemed a worthy escape; at least she had three square meals a day and could put her fighting prowess to use. It was a troubling transition; she wasn't used to being under anyone's authority but her own. After smacking around a few superior officers, and a few trips to the brig, she adjusted to military life. It was a rapid climb up the ranking ladder for her after that.<p>

Torfan was a bloodbath, but necessary. The batarians had had it coming. Shepard wasn't the type for peaceful surrender—it was divide and conquer, all the way. The surviving members of her unit never looked at her the same way after that; it didn't matter though, a job was a job, and she had performed beyond all expectations in the face of great opposition. This was her game, cat and mouse, routing the enemy and wiping them, clean or otherwise. A life on the streets had taught her that sentimentality and compassion were weaknesses when it came to the real world. To her, relationships were made in order to further the mission or for some other gain. She had a talent for reading people, even behind the cold, unfeeling visors of their helmets. There was an art to persuasion and intimidation, and she was a master. Any relations Shepard formed were purely for convenience or to complete an objective; there was no such thing as a personal relationship with her. Sure, she could fake sincerity, reassurance, and any other "fuzzy" feelings you could think of, but it was never real. Sex in itself was fun, but never more than a recreational activity for blowing off steam. It was like there was some sort of barrier around her heart, boarded up by years of hardship and the fight for survival itself. They say the military changes people; for Shepard, it only served to hone her predatory nature until she became a practical killing machine, ready for anything. It was only natural that she was selected for Eden Prime.

The things she had seen were disturbing, even for someone as emotionally detached as Shepard. A fount of blood like that meant nothing good, especially for the human race. Her first thought was a tactical plan, but what could she possibly think up when she had nothing but a jumble of feelings and images that weren't hers? All she knew was that Saren had to pay.

On Captain Andersen's request, they docked at the Citadel. Her new objective was to present her findings and suspicions to the Council in person. However, after Eden Prime, all Shepard wanted was a drink. A friendly salarian directed her to Chora's Den. It was a bit on the dodgy side as far as clubs went, and the noise was bothersome, but she could at least get a drink without having to threaten someone.

She surveyed the area and noticed a pair of krogan arguing on one side of the club. Her eyes narrowed, and she slammed her drink before heading over. "What seems to be the trouble?" she asked coolly.

"None of your concern, human," grumbled the bouncer, folding his stubby arms.

"Fist's days are numbered," snarled the opposite krogan. His scarred face and bright red eyes promised that. Intrigued, Shepard slipped off and gathered what information she could before approaching the battle-hardened alien.

"So, this Fist guy giving you some trouble?" she inquired later, peering sidelong at him, nursing a drink.

"A job's a job," was his short reply. "Say, aren't you Shepard? I've heard some stories about you lately."

A brief but amicable chat later, Wrex and Shepard were partners in crime, so to speak. They had similar trains of thought, and therefore meshed well together. Shepard respected his fighting prowess, knowledge, and take-no-shit attitude. Together, she and Wrex followed some leads that took them almost to the Council chambers, where they encountered a pair of turians arguing.

Judging by their body language and the heated tone of the less decorated turian, something was really eating at him. What was more interesting was the fact that he mentioned Saren. This raised an eyebrow for Shepard. This turian could be a direct line to the traitor's whereabouts. It wasn't long before Shepard, Wrex, and their newest recruit, Garrus were standing before the Council.

It was tough to swallow, but the Council called bullshit on Shepard's testimony. Not that she had any hopes they'd buy it, but that was fine by her; she lived for the hunt. They would have to keep searching the Citadel for any leads. Along the way, they picked up some odd jobs—after all, credits were credits, and they'd need all they could get when it came to tracking Saren down. Plus, the Citadel was a big place. By Shepard's calculations, they'd be better off taking the slow, methodical approach if they were going to come up with any clues. If she were in Saren's place, she'd have covered her tracks damn well, exploiting any loophole or sorry schmuck she could.

It turns out that persistence pays off.

A scuffle or two and some dead goons later, they had a quarian with a vital piece of information. There was no way the Council could refute this evidence.

It was difficult for Shepard to keep a smug look off her face when she saw the expressions of the Council members. Just like that, she became a Spectre.

A full-fledged, all resources at her command, race for humanity and the rest of the galaxy to take down the deadliest weapon the Council had at its disposal?

As Shepard pulled up the Normandy's galaxy map, blood pumping wildly, she couldn't help but laugh. "I hope you make this worth my time, Saren."


	2. Dr T'Soni

**Author's Note:** Hey look, a new chapter! Nothing really exciting, but I promise things will pick up as the story progresses. I'm not very skilled in depicting fight scenes, and I didn't want readers sitting though events that occur in game anyway, so a few things are glossed over. I'm still working out the kinks and overall approach to this story. Tips are appreciated.

**Chapter Music for Listening: Straight Line Stitch - Black Veil**

* * *

><p>Getting used to the Normandy took precious little time for Shepard. In fact, she settled in rather comfortably. A ship all to herself, where she made the rules and no one could question her otherwise?<p>

_Hell yeah, _she thought one night, leaning back in the chair in her quarters. _Ship's all mine, and now we're on the search for Liara T'Soni, an asari who might have a lead to Saren._

However, she felt restless in her cabin, staring at the ceiling while Saren was still on the run. It killed her to be sitting around doing nothing, whether they had a lead on Benezia and her relationship with the Reapers or not. In the meantime, Shepard decided she should get to know her crew a little better.

In the lower decks, she approached Wrex. It was easy to chat with him, since they both had a penchant for violence. They discussed the krogran genophage and battle tactics, and that was when Wrex brought up his brief stint with Saren.

"Why didn't you bring this up before?" demanded Shepard, peeved that she hadn't been informed of potentially invaluable background information on the slippery turian.

"I didn't think it was important, and it isn't," Wrex shot back, snapping his jaws in annoyance. "I saw him for all of five minutes on a run. Once we had taken over this volus shipment, Saren just walked through. He didn't talk to anybody; seemed like he was looking for something. I had a bad feeling about him from the beginning, so I got out. Didn't even wait to get paid. I'm glad I did, because every other merc that worked that job turned up dead within a week. So like I said, not important." His voice rumbled at the end, as though sore about losing out on pay, which Shepard could understand. Creds were creds, and they would need them if they were going to find the traitor.

"What could he have wanted?" Shepard mused aloud. "What was on the shipment?" she asked, rubbing her chin in contemplation.

"Run of the mill weapons, and some medical supplies, nothing fancy," Wrex replied. "That's why I said it wasn't important."

Shepard nodded silent, turning the statements over in her mind. "Thanks Wrex, I'll see what I can do with this." He grunted in reply.

Turning from hi as he went to perform routine maintenance, she moved to face the turian recruit. They hadn't spoken since their initial meeting and alliance. Shepard thought it prudent to learn what she could about a former C-Sec officer, if only so she could work the system to her advantage.

"That was some nice shooting back there," Shepard remarked. Truth be told, the only other person that shot with such clinical precision was Shepard herself. The turian moved to face her, datapad in hand. It took her a moment to realize he was smiling, not snarling.

She would be hesitant to admit it, but Shepard was thoroughly impressed by the efficacy with which Garrus dispatched the goons holding up Dr. Michel. It was a tight situation, and it would have been difficult to rescue the doctor if Garrus had not taken the shot when he did. The speed and fluidity with which he had moved reminded Shepard of her gang days, where if you wanted to live, you had to be faster than your opponent. With Garrus, his movements had been like those of a predator. He'd known exactly what he was doing, like he had seen it take place before him, and was just playing his part in its execution. That cold efficiency was definitely something Shepard could use, especially if it meant that hostages lived; they were much more useful alive than dead.

Shepard learned quite a bit about Garrus as they chatted about C-Sec. She thought it strange that, while he strove to do the "right" thing, he was not hesitant to break a few rules along the way. She wouldn't have hesitated to take whatever means necessary; Garrus seemed to possess more compassion than her. However, with all the red tape he referred to, she could see his reasoning. He was surprisingly noble, for all his seemingly unfeeling pretenses. Perhaps she could learn a thing or two from him, she later mused. It wouldn't hurt to be more approachable.

It was in the Athens system that they found a distress signal. Shepard boarded the Mako with Tali and Garrus in tow. Together they cruised across the dull, rocky, and lava-filled surface. As they trekked over the landscape, they saw some archaic looking edifices. They appeared to be ancient machinery or shelters, but were in great disrepair. A shadow descended over them.

Then they saw it: a geth ship.

Shepard's blood quickened in anticipation. Tali gripped her weapon tightly as they watching the ship drop geth machinations and turrets to the ground below. Shepard stood ready at the Mako's weapons systems.

"Finally, some action!" Garrus crowed. He stood at the Mako's piloting controls. Shepard peered into the cannon scope, just in time to see a blue flash and feel a shudder course through the ship. Shepard clenched her teeth and returned fire in kind; to her satisfaction, a direct hit was scored on the offending turret. She saw the shields on it sputter and collapse.

"Let's get this thing_ moving_, Garrus!" Shepard ordered. "Tali, get ready to disembark on my order!"

"Commander!" they chimed in accord. They raced across the sand to meet the invading geth. The automatons didn't stand a chance with Shepard at the helm. Each one fell, decimated from the violent and deafening blasts of the Mako's cannons.

Shepard gave the signal as they incapacitated the last of the turrets. Together, they jumped out of the Mako and stormed the geth troops. Shepard made one or two headshots as they neared. Tali, with her knowledge of machines, disabled more troublesome foes, while Garrus picked off distant targets with the aid of his rifle.

Shepard ground her teeth as geth forces threatened to move in on them. The sand whipped about them as the wind picked up into a howl. Shepard, exchanging her pistol for a shotgun, blasted a path for the trio, and they pressed on towards the site of Dr. T'Soni's research.

Once inside, it was eerily quiet. They descended as quickly as they could in the ancient and treacherous environment. Shepard's steely eyes scanned the path before them, watching for weak spots in the tunnel. The last thing they needed was a deadly pitfall. It was predictably balmy in the tunnels from volcanic activity. Along the way, they met few enemies; it made Shepard's skin prickle in suspicion. They boarded an elevator shaft as they proceeded further underground. As they sunk, the elevator made a creaking and whining noise. Before any of the could react, the elevator broke free of the shaft and plummeted.

They were lucky it didn't have far to fall—though they landed in a heap, none of them suffered injury aside from a bruise or two. Shepard dusted herself off and surveyed the area. Most everything was derelict machinery and more metal, but a glowing blue light caught her eye. As the stepped off the elevator, Shepard cautiously approached the light.

An asari, who could only be Dr. T'Soni, was suspended in midair in this strange blue area. Shepard gripped her shotgun tightly, cocking her head and narrowing her eyes. "Dr. T'Soni?"

"Can you hear me out there?" she replied anxiously. "Thank the goddess. Help me, I'm trapped!" She went on to explain how the geth had attacked and her unfortunate predicament with the Prothean technology when she had raised the facility's defenses.

"How do I know I can trust you? Your mother is working with Saren," Shepard said matter-of-factly. "Whose side are you on?"

Liara stared at her, appalled. "What? I'm not on anybody's side! I have spoken to her in years! Please, just get me out of here."

Shepard stepped back, leaning on one leg, and contemplated. She couldn't do any damage in this state, so why not get her out? They needed her expertise if nothing else. "Hang on," she said, and turned to study the room again. Something that looked like a control panel was situated on one side of the room. Shepard looked over the panel. There had to be some combination that would disable the field.

Biting down on her lower lip in concentration, Shepard began work on the panel. She hated tedious work like this; anything that couldn't be solved with a gun usually wasn't worth solving.

It took some doing, but eventually the panel was activated and Liara was freed. With her in tow, they made their way for the surface. Along the way, Liara, expressed how disturbed she was at geth moving beyond the Veil, and its implications.

Suddenly, the elevator, their ticket to the surface, slowed to a halt. The ruin was already falling apart, they didn't have time for more delays Shepard readied her gun as a group of geth and a krogan sauntered forward.

"Of course," Shepard muttered. She had expected a bounty hunter or two.

"Hand the doctor over," the krogan growled.

"I think I like her better with us, thanks," Shepard replied sarcastically. "Kill these bastards," she ordered.

A flurry of bullets later, the group was eliminated, but as they raced towards the exit, the facility shuddered. Rock and twisted bits of metal cascaded around them in deafening clangs, screeches, and thuds. "Move, move, MOVE!" Shepard bellowed, and they tore through the complex. She leapt over crumbling walkways and stairs, through collapsing tunnels, and as she cleared the final door, a cloud of ash and smoke billowed forward. Her heart pounded with exertion, and she had to pause for breath. Narrow escapes like that hadn't happened since her Torfan days.

She looked up at the Normandy. Now the real game began.


End file.
